


What Rises From Darkness

by LapfulofMisha



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Angst, Kidnapping, M/M, Magic, Mutual Oblivious Pining, Protective!Derek, Starts out dark but ends with extreme FLUFF, namecalling, shameless porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 15:22:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/941509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LapfulofMisha/pseuds/LapfulofMisha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Stiles is kidnapped by a rival pack and Derek has to fight their alpha to get him back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Rises From Darkness

Derek regrets arguing with Stiles.

It’s just that, seeing him talking to that girl from the Petersburg pack, and smelling her arousal, her _approval_ . . . well, it made him see red.  Literally.

He is very protective of his pack. In spite of his aloof and standoffish demeanor, he would die to keep them safe. He loves each and every one of them. 

Some more than others.

One in particular.

Derek stands in his loft, hands clasped behind his back, staring out the huge block of windows into the night. Upstairs, his pack sleeps in the dens he has partitioned out for them. Derek likes having them all under one roof; there’s strength in numbers, especially for werewolves.  He feels safe knowing they are all together.

All except one, currently.

Derek drops his head and closes his eyes, replaying in his mind the fight he had with Stiles.

_Derek finally locates Stiles, for whom he’s been searching for hours. He sees him talking, no,_ flirting _, with a gorgeous girl with corn silk hair cascading down her back. Her body is muscular and curvy in all the right places and she smells like . . .wait a minute,_ what the fuck is going on here?

_Derek’s teeth and claws shoot out in response to the threat he perceives. He immediately recognizes this situation for what it is: she’s seeking a mate for her alpha. A young, untouched human is a special prize with a lot of potential power and Stiles is . . . well, he’s_ pretty _. Derek stalks threateningly over to the two of them. The girl grins, feeling she must be close to successfully luring the human beta away if she’s getting this kind of response from Stiles’ Alpha._

_Stiles’ eyes grow wide as he sees Derek starting to wolf out and takes a step back. “Woah, big guy! We’re just talking!”_

_Derek ignores him and growls at the girl, poking a long, sharp claw into her chest. Her teeth come out in response, but otherwise, she seems rather unmoved by the display._

_“What’s the matter?” she purrs, the long silky hair swirling alluringly, and she blinks her huge blue eyes innocently at Derek. She’s like a fucking siren, no wonder Stiles is so taken with her._

_“You know exactly what the matter is,” he answers through clenched teeth, and his thundering, echoing alpha voice reverberates throughout the alleyway._

_“Uh, dude?” Stiles pipes up. “We’re just talking. I am still allowed to talk to people, right?” He sounds bitter, has sounded bitter ever since his father died and he was forced to join their pack for protection after the Uprising. He gives Derek that sarcastic, exasperated expression that covers his face so often these days. Derek’s jaw twitches._

_“She’s one of Petersburg’s pack,” Derek accuses, and resumes glaring at her. “Talking isn’t what she has in mind.”_

_“Exactly!” shrieks Stiles urgently. “Now you’re catching on! Now you understand why you need to take your little werewolf ass and get the hell out of here!”_

_Derek growls fiercely at Stiles, and_ this _time the girl jumps, but Stiles doesn’t move, and JESUS FUCK it turns Derek on that Stiles doesn’t even blink, just sighs and rolls his eyes. No one else in his pack dares talk to him the way Stiles does. Scott routinely argues with him, but in an angsty, whiny sort of way, and he’s too obsessed with Allison to really care about challenging Derek’s authority anyway._

_Derek puts his (still clawed-out) hand on Stiles and pulls him away from Corn Silk._

_“It’s not as if_ you’ve _claimed him,” she taunts, clearly understanding Derek’s feelings for Stiles, probably better than he himself understands them. She obviously can smell his jealousy, fear . . . arousal. “You can’t just keep a human who’s that perfect and beautiful locked away from the world,” she continues, knowing she’s baiting Derek and thoroughly enjoying every minute of it. “Someone’s going to challenge you for him, even if it’s not me. Someone is going to lure him away and there’s nothing you can do about it.”_

_Derek pounces on her, and Stiles screams at him. “Stop it, you fucking monster!”_

_She wiggles free when Derek freezes at Stiles’ words. She slashes at his face with her claws and laughs at him._

_“You’re_ pathetic. _You’re too weak to claim him for yourself, and too pigheaded to let anyone else have him. You’re a ridiculous excuse for an alpha.”_

_Turning to Stiles, she says cheerfully, “We’ll talk again soon, sweetie.” She bats her gorgeous eyelashes at Stiles before disappearing into the darkness._

_“What is wrong with you?” Stiles wails. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”_

_“My job. Protecting you.” Derek puts his hand on Stiles’ neck and guides him, a little more forcefully than necessary, to the Camaro._

_“Dude! I was about to have sex!” Stiles is like an indignant teenager, although he hasn’t actually been one for several years now._

_“Yes, you were, but not with her.”_

_Stiles stops, but doesn’t try to break free from Derek’s possessive hold on him. After five years of pack-hood, he knows better. “What are you even_ talking _about? She was practically begging for it.”_

_Derek snorts. “She wanted to take you back to her pack’s den, didn’t she?”_

_Stiles resumes walking, and Derek lets his hand drop. “Yeah? So?”_

_“You are 22, untouched, and human,” he says, and can’t keep a sliver of pride from slipping into his voice. “Pretty rare combination, this day and age.”_

_“Exactly! And because of you, I’ll probably stay untouched for the rest of my life! Thanks again for that!”_

_Derek opens the Camaro’s passenger side door and unceremoniously shoves Stiles into the front seat._

_*****_

_Stiles continues to protest (what he considers to be) his mistreatment as Derek puts the car in gear and heads back toward the loft. Derek is especially indulgent when it comes to Stiles; if any of his werewolf betas challenged him in front of an enemy the way Stiles did, they’d regret it deeply.  But Stiles is special, and he wants him to understand that he’s looking out for him. He tries to explain._

_“I am – familiar with her pack. You don’t want to have anything to do with them. They’re opportunists. Social climbers. All they care about is what other packs think of them. They have no honor, no respect for anyone.”_

_“Aw, it’s so sweet of you to worry about my reputation.”_

_Derek grits his teeth. “Dammit, Stiles, her alpha wants you,” he says bluntly. “The only reason she’s trying to lure you home with her is so she can turn you over to him.”_

_“How do you know that? You think someone as hot as her couldn’t possibly be interested in someone like me, is that it? You think I’m ugly or something?”_

_Derek sighs. “There’s incredible power that comes from purity and innocence. When an unbitten alpha mates with an untouched human, the bond they form is supernaturally strong. He wants to mate with you to increase his own power.”_

_Stiles looks at Derek with open curiosity. “If I’m so powerful, why haven’t_ you _mated with me?”_

_Derek’s breath catches in his throat. He wants Stiles so badly he can barely stand it most days. But there’s no way he would ever force him, and how the hell can Stiles not know that?_

_“Not good enough for you, huh? Or maybe you_ do _think I’m ugly,” Stiles says defensively, before Derek has a chance to answer his question._

_This conversation has definitely taken a confusing turn. Derek stops for a red light and turns to look at Stiles, trying to figure out exactly how they’ve gotten to this point._

_“You don’t_ own _me, you know. I mean, I hate to tell you this, but I’m not a child.” Stiles is on a roll now, the frustration and loss and loneliness he’s built up over the years pouring out of him like it’s Niagara Falls. “I’m not as helpless as you think I am. I don’t need your protection. What I need is_ sex _. And as long as I’m stuck with you, it’s obviously never gonna happen. Maybe I_ want _to mate with their alpha, did you ever think of that? Maybe I’m lonely! Maybe I’m sick to hell of you and your constant interference in my life! Maybe I wish you’d just leave me the fuck alone! Maybe I never want to see you again!”_

_Derek grabs his arm. “This isn’t the time for your juvenile bullshit! If you keep acting like a child, you’re going to get yourself killed!”_

_“If you’d stop treating me like a child, maybe I’d stop acting like one!” he snarls._

_“You are naïve; you don’t realize how valuable you are, how much you are desired-”_

_“Is that why you wanted me in your pack?” Stiles asks, a horrified expression on his face. “Am I some kind of trophy for you? A status symbol? Your own personal pet human?”_

_Derek’s shoulders slump, and he resists the urge to bite Stiles into submission. “You can’t just wander the streets alone anymore. From now on, you don’t leave the loft without a werewolf escort.”_

_“Or what?”_

_“Or I’ll chain you to the fucking staircase!”_

_Stiles turns away. “I fucking hate you!”_

_“I can live with that,” he responds, ignoring the invisible knife that’s twisting in his gut.  To himself, he adds, as long as you’re safe._

_“Piss off, Derek. You can officially consider yourself NOT responsible for me anymore.”_

_He opens the door, jumps out of the car, and runs down the street, not looking back._

_Derek is stung, badly, but he knows Stiles. He just needs a little time to cool down. Living with a bunch of werewolves is stressful, even for other werewolves, and the world has become a desolate, crappy place.  He doesn’t chase after him.  He knows eventually he’ll come home, and for all of Derek’s fussing, Stiles is pretty good at taking care of himself._

*****

Derek catches the scent of his pack invading his bedroom before he even wakes up. He stayed up most of the night waiting for Stiles to return, before finally crawling into bed a few hours ago as the sun came up.  When he opens his eyes, his room is filled with anxious faces.

“Where’s Stiles?” demands Scott, and then everyone starts talking at once.

Erica: “Didn’t you find him?”

Boyd: “You didn’t leave him out there alone?”

Isaac: “What if he’s hurt?”

Allison: “What if another pack gets a hold of him?”

Jackson: “He owes me ten bucks!”

Derek ignores all this and focuses instead on the devastating fact that apparently, _Stiles didn’t come home_.  He feels sick to his stomach because Stiles is _human_ , and in spite of what he said, he’s Derek’s responsibility. Maybe he was too hard on him.  If he’d been more understanding, maybe he wouldn’t have run off.

There’s no time for such thoughts right now.  His expression never changes because he can’t let his betas know about the gaping hole in his soul that Stiles unknowingly fills. He has resigned himself to the fact that he’ll never have an actual romantic relationship with him, because Derek’s life just doesn’t work that way; he knows this from bitter experience, and he also knows that Stiles just sort of tolerates him because his life depends on it.  But just having Stiles around is enough for now, it’s enough to know that he’s protected and taken care of. 

Except that right now, he’s neither. He’s missing. Because no matter how many times he argues with Derek, no matter how many times he runs off into the night, he _always_ comes home. 

Derek herds everyone out of his bedroom.  He begins assigning his wolves to search Stiles’ haunts, check for him throughout their territory, discreetly visit his dad’s old place and the ruins of his old neighborhood . . . when the motion sensor in the loft buzzes.  There’s a knock at the door. Derek storms across the loft and opens it. Two werewolves from Petersburg’s pack stand there, grinning like the idiots they obviously are.

“We have your human beta,” announces the one on the left.

Derek growls, and instantly his pack surrounds him.

“Our alpha wishes to challenge you for him. If you choose to accept, you’ll come with us now. If you choose to decline, you’ll never see him again.”

The pack erupts with savage threats and indignant protests, but Derek silences them. “I’ll go with you,” he tells the two in the hall. Turning to Scott, he says, “You’re in charge until I get back.”

Scott gapes at him. “You understand what this is, don’t you? It’s a fight to the death for a mate! If you die, Stiles is never coming home, you get me? And if you don’t die, you’ll be expected to _mate_ with him!”

“Stiles is coming home. We both are. Stay here and take care of everyone.”

*****

As usual, things turn out a little differently than Stiles envisioned. He wakes up alone, in the largest bed he’s ever seen. The mattress is hard but the pillows are soft and the sheets are _silk_. He’s still clothed, and he’s very thankful for that, because Derek was right and this pack’s alpha wants to mate with him, all right, and the dude is _fugly_. Stiles has never seen an ugly werewolf before, and he is wholly unnerved and more than a little distressed by the prospect of mating with someone with thinning hair and a pot belly and _warts everywhere_.

To make matters worse, when the guy had gotten up in Stiles’ personal space, he smelled like rot and morning breath and decay. All the werewolves Stiles knows smell like trees and earth and musk and he could spend a lifetime breathing in their scents, so it doesn’t make sense to him that this guy smells so _bad_. If not for the teeth and red eyes he displayed at the sight of Stiles . . . he would never have believed this guy was a werewolf, and definitely not an _alpha_.

Daniella, the lovely were-girl that he’d flirted with last night, has disappeared from the picture entirely, and while Stiles knows he’s not the first guy to fall for a pick up line, well, he decides right here and now to stop making decisions with organs that are not his brain.

Sighing, he slides out of bed and goes over and tries the door, but of course, it’s locked. Looking around the huge room, which has royal blue walls and is sparsely but elegantly furnished, he realizes quickly that there are no windows, and the ventilation ducts are way too tiny for him to try and squeeze into them. It’s a fancy prison, but a prison nonetheless.

He sinks back onto the bed and wonders how he manages to get himself into these situations (and more importantly, how the hell is he going to get himself out of this one?) Derek has always been there to save him, but this time . . . after what he said last night . . . He knows he never should have left the way he did, in fact that ranks as one of the stupidest things he’s done in his long history of doing stupid things. Derek’s done nothing but risk his own ass to protect Stiles, time and again, ever since Stiles joined his pack. The problem is . . . the guy drives him _crazy_.

The fact that Stiles has been pining after him since day one makes it so much worse.

Stiles uses sarcasm as his biggest line of defense, because, while he’s hardly scrawny, compared to the werewolves that have taken over the world, well, he’s not exactly _Derek_. So yeah, he mouths off a lot to Derek, but he rarely ever means anything by it.

Derek.  He said horrible, awful things to him last night, and he knows he’s pissed him off and probably hurt him, because for all of Derek’s inexperience and tough guy talk, Stiles knows how much he cares about those in his charge. He recalls the look on Derek’s normally expressionless face when he called him a monster, and he cringes. What with that and everything else he said afterward in the car, it’s safe to say that Derek is probably glad to be rid of him.

That means, if he’s going to get himself out of this situation, he’d better come up with something, quick.

*****

Derek walks between the two Petersburgs and he’s reminded of the Ferengi from that old human show, _Star Trek the Next Generation_. He pushes the association out of his mind and listens to them drone on about rules and etiquette and social expectations regarding the face-off between two alphas. He couldn’t possibly care less what a bunch of high society type strangers think of him; he’s kept his pack carefully outside of and away from all that bullshit. But he also knows he won’t get Stiles back unless he submits to their weird social agenda. So he pays attention, and learns he’ll be kept apart from the other alpha until the actual fight; he will, in fact, be “stationed” in the same room as his beta until the time for the ‘event’ arrives. The other pack will prepare for the social event, and every supernatural creature in the area will turn out for the entertainment. The winner, a.k.a. the person still alive when the challenge is over, will win the human as a mate.

Derek bristles slightly at the fact that Stiles has no say in the matter; humans lost most of their rights a few years ago when werewolves took over the planet. Stiles is rare indeed; a majority of the human population was annihilated, a majority of those that survived were turned; and most of the humans who joined packs for protection were immediately taken as mates, once the power-enhancing abilities of humans were discovered.

The trip to the other pack’s estate is long, and the two blokes obviously enjoy hearing their own voices because they babble continuously the entire time.  They are almost _friendly_ , because to them this is a mutually beneficial event to be enjoyed. It never actually occurs to them that the alpha in their presence could have feelings for his beta.  They simply consider him inferior, because he let his human wander away.

Derek, for his part, is wishing he’d actually chained Stiles to the staircase, because although he’s completely willing to fight and die for him, if he has to listen to these two superficial morons much longer, he’s going to vomit.

*****

Stiles is going stir crazy, stuck in this weird blue room. He’s pretty sure he won’t survive another day in here. He wishes he could take back what happened between him and Derek, wishes he’d just rode back to the loft in silence. He closes his eyes and runs fingers through his hair, and scarcely believes it when he hears the door unlock, and suddenly Derek is flung into the room by two werewolves that remind Stiles of hyenas.

“Oh my god you actually came for me?” Stiles says in one breath, and rushes over to Derek, because he wants nothing more than to throw his arms around him, but he stops a few feet away, because Derek is glaring at him with his red glowing eyes.

“You thought I’d just leave you here?” he says in that low, threatening voice he seems to reserve just for Stiles.

“After everything I – well, yeah. I figured you were probably glad to be rid of me. Me and my _juvenile bullshit_.” He’s not sure why he throws that last part in, because he doesn’t want to argue, but dammit that _hurt_ , he’s 22 years old, he’s hardly juvenile.

Derek’s mouth twitches and he narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. Stiles can’t believe he’s pushed him away again, after spending a zillion hours in this room imagining all the ways he could make up with him. He expects a tirade; instead, Derek sighs and asks softly, “are you hurt?”

“I uh, no, _what_?”   

Derek moves closer to Stiles. “What I’m asking is, the alpha . . . did he . . . did you . . . ?”

“Ew! No! _Yuck_! Have you even _seen_ this guy?”

“No, I won’t until I fight him. Why?”

“He doesn’t seem like other werewolves at all. I mean, he’s _disgusting_. He smells bad, and he’s covered in warts, Derek. _Warts_. And he sort of _bulges_. And not _good_ bulges, not like, muscle bulges.” He unconsciously rakes his eyes over Derek’s incredibly perfect physique. “He doesn’t even look like a – why are you looking at me like that?”

“The only reason a werewolf ever looks like what you’re describing is if he uses magic. Werewolves weren’t meant to use magic; it corrupts us, gets in our blood like an infection, and causes physical symptoms like what you’re talking about. No wonder they didn’t want me to see him beforehand. They didn’t want me to know.” Derek closes his eyes and rubs his hand over them.

“Oh. Oh, that’s bad.”

“Yeah, that’s bad, because that means he’ll use magic on me during the challenge, and I’m not strong enough to fight it off. Even if the rest of the pack were here, it would take much more power than we have.”

He walks over to the bed and sits down, suddenly seeming very weary.  Stiles wants to climb up on the bed behind him and get him out of that leather jacket and rub the tension out of his shoulders (which bulge in all the _right_ places).  He wants to tell him he’s sorry for getting into this mess. He wants to cup his face and whisper in his ear and kiss those amazing lips and fuck him until he-

_Oh my god, that’s it._

“Uh. Derek? I have an idea.  I think I can help.” Stiles glances at him, almost shyly.

Derek looks up at him, realizing all of a sudden what he has in mind.

“Stiles, no-”

“Would it work?”

“ _Stiles_ -”

“ _Would. It.Work_?”

Derek puts his head in his hands.  Stiles can’t recall ever seeing him do that before, and honestly, he feels a little unnerved by the idea too, not because he doesn’t want to mate with Derek – god, he’s wanted to do that since the moment he first laid eyes on him, even before he _fell_ for him – but because he doesn’t want their first time to be like _this_. To be _necessary_. To be _planned_ , devoid of passion and emotion.

Derek looks up at Stiles and the naked emotion in his eyes is unnerving. Stiles has never seen him that unguarded before. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“Well, you’re not asking, I’m offering.”

“Stiles, the point of my being here is to _protect you from being mated_.”

“And if that guy uses magic on you, and you can’t fight him off, then you’re dead, and I’m screwed.  Like, literally.”

“I can’t.”

Stiles is getting frustrated. In more ways than one. “Look, I know I’m not . . . your type, exactly. But the way I see it, doing this is sort of necessary for survival. So maybe you could just, I don’t know, pretend I’m somebody else.”

“I don’t need to pretend you’re somebody else!” Derek says angrily.

“Then what are we waiting for? Can you think of any other alternatives?”

Derek looks at him, then looks at the ground, defeated. Stiles knows he’s won, but he certainly doesn’t feel victorious.

*****

Derek can’t believe what he’s hearing.  Logically, Stiles is right; if they mate, if Derek gains the power from his innocence, he has a chance against a magical alpha.  Especially since it sounds as if they guy is already kind of . . . decayed. But at what cost?  He won’t be able to hide how he feels if they are intimate. What if Stiles hates him for this?

“Derek? Stop overanalyzing. Let’s just uh, get it over with?”

_Get it over with._

Derek pretends the words don’t feel like a knife stabbing him in the heart and says, “All right. Stiles, are you sure?”

“Dude!  Seriously!” He starts taking off his clothes and Derek can’t help but drink in the sight of the creamy flesh, flecked with moles and _perfect_. Stiles’ body is lithe and sleek like a panther, and Derek has no problem _at all_ getting it up, which Stiles notices immediately. He grins that little dimpled grin of his that Derek rarely sees anymore, and he thinks he might actually go insane from this experience.

Stiles is naked and apparently completely without modesty as he walks over to the bed and slides his hands into Derek’s leather jacket and pushes it off of him. Derek is relieved to hear that his heart speeds up a little when he pulls the t-shirt over Derek’s head; maybe Stiles _will_ enjoy this a little, after all, at least enough that he won’t be scarred for life from it.  He runs his hands along Derek’s naked torso and they are so _soft_ , and his fingernails lightly graze Derek’s sensitive skin and he shivers. Stiles is unbuckling Derek’s belt and undoing his jeans and pushing them down over his hips.  Derek scoots his butt out of them and Stiles pushes them down his legs, his fingers tracing lightly along the way, and then he yanks them off and climbs into Derek’s lap and straddles him.

Derek gasps, he doesn’t mean to, he doesn’t want to make this any weirder for Stiles than it has to be, but Stiles’ hand reaches down and wraps around his dick and Stiles’ heart is _pounding_.

“So, um, how do we do this?” he asks softly, and his voice is deep and throaty and Derek is definitely not going to survive this. He looks up into Stiles’ face, and his eyes are so _gorgeous_ and his pupils are huge and his lips are just slightly parted and while one hand strokes Derek he grabs Derek’s shoulder with his other hand and Derek _can’t even breathe_. Every instinct, every muscle, every bone in his body is screaming at him to throw Stiles down on the bed and fuck him until he can’t walk (which won’t take long since he’s never had it in the ass before, or anywhere else, for that matter). The responsible alpha part of Derek tells him he should lie down on the bed and let Stiles have control so that maybe he’ll be able to look Derek in the face again someday.  Either way, the connection will be established; Derek knows it makes no difference who tops and who bottoms.

He leans back onto the cool silk sheets, and Stiles has both hands on his dick now. He’s squeezing and when Derek starts to leak, Stiles takes his finger and sweeps it over the head of Derek’s dick and then sticks his finger in his mouth. He looks like he’s trying to discern the flavor of a fine wine, then raises an eyebrow, says, ‘hm’, and finishes the business at hand, so to speak. Derek squirts onto Stiles, he can’t help it. The hand job is awesome but seeing him taste his cum is a goddamn life changing experience.

“Stiles,” he manages to chokes out.

“Tell me how I transfer my power to you,” he says seriously as Derek lays boneless on the bed, and then starts laughing, but stops when he sees the mortified look on Derek’s face. “Sorry, it’s just . . . that’s not something I ever expected to say during sex.  Especially, you know, to _you_.”

Derek is suddenly and painfully reminded that they wouldn’t be doing this if Stiles’ life didn’t more or less depend on it, and he can’t look at him anymore. Stiles reads the hurt expression and takes his spooey - covered hand off Derek’s dick and leans down over him, so his face is inches above Derek’s. 

“Um, Derek? Maybe you didn’t notice, but I’m okay with this. Like, um, the hard thing poking into your stomach right now? That’s me _telling you_ I’m okay with this.” Stiles is breathless.

Derek looks into his eyes again, and he’s like an open book, and Derek’s considerable self-control finally snaps.  He reaches up and effortlessly flips Stiles onto his back.  Stiles watches him with a kind of wonder as Derek spreads Stiles’ legs and uses his tongue to lubricate his hole with his saliva, then uses his fingers, one at a time, to spread him open. Then he withdraws his fingers and starts fucking him.

Derek is not at all surprised that Stiles is _loud_.  

As he rocks them up and down on the bed, he pushes Stiles’ wrists into the sheets and bites into his shoulder, with his human teeth so he doesn’t turn him. Stiles thrusts against him and it doesn’t take long before he screams, “OH MY GOD DEREK!” at the top of his lungs as he releases all over Derek’s chest. Derek feels white hot energy filling his body, like he’s pumping into the core of a fucking _star,_ and it’s different from the power surge he felt when he became an alpha. This energy is searing, _emotional_ , tearing into his soul and tethering him to Stiles in a way he could never have even _fathomed_ before. Growling and sucking into his shoulder and up onto his neck, he feels the wolf begging him not to stop, to claim Stiles as his, and then he feels the white hot energy surround his wolf.

_Holy fuck._

He’s pretty sure he loses consciousness for a few minutes before he comes, again, inside Stiles this time, before he collapses on top of him.

Stiles’ eyes are closed and he’s trembling. Derek wants to hold him, _cuddle_ him, protect him from the rest of the world, and he actually feels capable of doing it.  His body is humming with energy. Feeling Stiles underneath him, warm and close with his heart pounding steadily . . . he’s pretty sure he could just stay here with him like this forever and be content for the rest of his life.

“So, uh, it worked?” Stiles is still breathless.

“It definitely worked. How do you feel? Did I hurt you?” Concern overtakes him and he rolls off of Stiles.

“I feel . . . different. Is sex always like this?”

“Like what?”

“I feel – connected to you. More than just a beta - alpha thing. I mean, that was fucking incredible!” He grins at Derek, and then he fucking _winks_ , and Derek is left speechless, and his heart melts into a pile of rainbow - colored goo.

*****

Stiles is, in fact, a little sore, because Derek is fucking HUGE, but his body is filled with warmth and energy like he’s never felt in his life, and having an orgasm that he didn’t bring on himself is indescribable.

It occurs to him then that Derek never kissed him, and his afterglow fades a little. When Stiles told him the sex was incredible, he hadn’t agreed; he’d said nothing.  Derek did what he had to do, and he seemed to enjoy it, but Stiles realizes this was just one more situation he was forced into to try and save his and Stiles’ lives. This wasn’t making love, it was fucking, for the sake of powering up Derek’s alpha-abilities, and while Stiles has nothing against fucking, it hurts to think that his passionate feelings weren’t reciprocated. This fact is obvious because Derek is on the other side of the bed, not touching Stiles, not snuggling, and he though people snuggled after sex.

Scott and Allison snuggled constantly.  Stiles feels like he’s missed out on something, and he’s suddenly angry.

Stiles realizes that if Derek had actually _wanted_ to do this, he’d have done it ages ago, when their lives weren’t dependent on it.

“We should clean up. If they come in here, they’re gonna know what we did and they’re gonna be pissed.” Stiles practically leaps out of bed and goes over to the double sink on the opposite wall, wanting to get out of what he sees as a one-sided intimate situation as quickly as possible.

Derek gets out of bed and follows him. “Stiles, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing. Look, we need to get you ready.  You need to get used to your new power and whatever.  You should probably, I don’t know, _practice_ or something.”

Derek grabs him and turns him around, and Stiles knows if he looks into those green eyes and sees the closed - off, devoid – of - feeling look Derek usually regards him with, he’s done. So he stares beyond Derek’s shoulder.

“Stiles, what just happened?  You feel upset all of a sudden.”

“How the hell do you know how I _feel_?” he hisses.

“I don’t know, it must be part of our new connection. What’s going on? Why aren’t you looking at me?”

“Do I have to _look_ at you to add to your power? Because if not, I’d say we need to concentrate on the situation we’re currently in.”

He throws Derek a towel from the neatly stacked pile on the countertop, then hastily gets himself dressed.

Stiles can’t believe the giant hole opening up inside of him. He wonders if his heart will be sucked into it. He kind of hopes so, because he’s pretty sure he can’t live with the humiliation and the ridiculousness of this whole situation.  The way Derek looked at him while they were making love – no, _fucking_ , he’d been certain he saw the same emotions he was feeling reflected back at him in Derek’s eyes.  He was so sure Derek was responding to him out of _emotion,_ not need.

But it’s not like he is experienced enough to tell the difference.

Maybe he actually is as juvenile as Derek thinks he is.

He actually feels nauseous.  He’s filled with nervous energy, so he starts doing what he does best: he talks.

“So, I’ve learned a few things from the monkeys they send in here to care for me. Like, their alpha isn’t doing so hot. Apparently it’s like you said and the magic is draining him. They don’t seem to think he’s going to have the stamina to physically fight you.  But they’re not actually worried about _him_. They’re worried about losing social standing if he fails to provide a good show to the guests that are coming to watch. Apparently, several _thousand_ are expected.”

Stiles pauses to look at Derek, who has washed up and is dressing. He’s not looking at Stiles, but Stiles can tell he’s listening. He walks over to the bed, rips off the sheets, balls them up, and hides them in the cupboard under the sink. He then flips the comforter and blankets back over the bed, all the while trying to act nonchalant and normal. He resumes talking because he can’t stand the silence.

“There has to be a weakness, a loophole in his magic-” he shakes his head thoughtfully as Derek interrupts him.

“Stiles – how did we go from ‘it was fucking incredible’ to you not being able to look me in the eyes? What have I done?”

“It doesn’t matter right now! Did you hear _anything_ I just said?”

“I’m more concerned with you at the moment! What’s wrong?”

Stiles wants to scream at him.

“Are you worried about our _connection_? Don’t. You haven’t done anything. I mean, this was my idea. And totally necessary. ” He stops and glares at Derek.  “Look, maybe losing the big V this way wasn’t everything I hoped and dreamed, okay? Maybe I’m a little disappointed by the fact that my first time wasn’t with someone who actually loves me and cares for me and wants to spend their life with me.  Maybe fucking a werewolf who I don’t even actually get along with, just so I don’t have to fuck a different werewolf, is a slightly revolting situation to me!”

“Revolting,” Derek repeats numbly, and Stiles inwardly curses himself for his diarrhea of the mouth, because all of that was definitely _not_ supposed to come out, and the part about how he’s been in love with Derek for _years_ and can’t stand the fact that this was just meaningless sex for him probably _should_ have come out but didn’t.  He finally looks at Derek and is absolutely shocked to see pain in his eyes.

“Stiles, I’m sorry,” Derek mumbles. “I never should have agreed to this.  I never should have – I never should have let this happen to you in the first place. You were mine to protect.” Roughly, he drags clawed fingers across his head and walks across the room with his back to Stiles. Stiles feels like there’s a boulder in his chest, because Derek couldn’t possibly be _hurt_ if he didn’t _care_.

“Derek -”

“I promise I’ll get you out of here.”

“Derek!”

“Tell me what else the Petersburgs have mentioned.”

Stiles sighs, feeling helpless, and tries to remember anything else that might help Derek.

*****

Derek is at a complete loss, which is usually the case when he deals with Stiles. He had certainly been under the impression that Stiles enjoyed what they had done. For the life of him, he couldn’t explain Stiles’ change in attitude. Revolting? _Really?_

The thing of it is, he can _feel_ Stiles through the bond they’d established during sex. And while he has enough trouble figuring out his own feelings, let alone someone else’s, he is pretty sure Stiles isn’t revolted by him. He is  . . . disappointed in him. And angry. 

Anger he understands very well, but he has no idea what he’s done to cause Stiles to feel this way.

Right now he has to push his own pain away and worry about saving them.

Derek pries some more details out of Stiles, but nothing he says sheds any light on how Derek can exploit the alpha when they fight.  Derek hopes the power in his bond with Stiles is enough to defeat him. They continued strategizing as two exquisitely dressed men unlock and open the door.

“It’s time!” they announce grandly.

*****

Derek finds himself in a giant gladiator style arena.  The glare of lights blinds him until he grows accustomed to them, and an audience with what must be nearly 2,000 voices is screaming all around him.

He looks toward the center of the arena where Stiles is tied to a pole, and Derek has time to think that’s an absurd place to have a pole before the opposing alpha appears, and the crowd roars even louder.

Derek starts toward Stiles, intent on freeing him and getting him out of danger, but Petersburg’s alpha intercepts him. He’s much faster than he looks. Derek transforms and charges him, and the one overpowering thought in his head is _keep him away from Stiles_.

He’s about to claw the guy’s throat apart when an invisible force flings him across the arena. He lands with a crunch of bones which immediately begin repairing themselves. He ignores the cry of panic in his head that comes from Stiles.

Getting himself up slowly as the remaining injuries heal, he heads toward the opposing alpha. The son of a bitch is _smiling_ at him. Derek bares his considerably long teeth and growls before leaping at the other werewolf. He vanishes into thin air, reappearing behind Derek and impaling him in the back with a sword. Derek reaches around but can’t remove it, and something’s wrong because inside of him feels heavy, and he falls on the ground as a sea of colors wash across his field of vision.

Freaking _wolfsbane_.  Not only is the bastard using magic, he knows Derek is unarmed, and he uses a sword laced with wolfsbane on him. Classy.

_Use my power!_ He hears somewhere off in the distance, and then he feels it. Stiles is instinctively feeding him power, and suddenly he’s surging with energy. He concentrates on pushing the sword out from the inside, and without warning it flies out of him and lands on the ground ten feet away.

“ _Human magic!_ ” screams Petersburg’s startled alpha, and Derek uses the man’s shock to his advantage. He grabs for his neck, and the guy lunges at him in fury. They roll around on the arena’s dirt floor, clawing and slicing and howling.

“You stole his purity from me!” screams the enraged alpha.

“It was never yours to take!” Derek growls back.

“You are the idiot that let him get away!” he squeals, grabbing Derek’s shoulders and biting him evilly on the top of his head and forehead. “That makes him fair game!”

Stiles sends Derek another surge of power, and Derek breaks free from the werewolf’s hold on him.

Stiles wasn’t kidding; this guy _stinks,_ and his skin in _yellow_. Stiles hadn’t exaggerated about the warts, either, there must be two hundred of them, and that’s just on the skin he can see.

He needs to kill this bastard just to put him out of his _misery._

Blood runs down his forehead from the bite, and he pauses for a moment to hope he hasn’t been infected with anything, as his opponent moves around him in a circle, smiling hideously.

“I’m still gonna take your beta,” he snarls, and Derek has an image of him forcibly mating with Stiles, and it sends him off the deep end.

Derek lunges at the other alpha, and Stiles senses his intentions and floods him with energy. Derek moves so fast the guy never sees him coming, and he rips the other alpha’s throat out with his teeth.

The crowd erupts into even louder cheering. They don’t care that their host is dead; they just are happy for the violent entertainment to spice up their lives.

Derek’s body is covered with injuries and hurts like hell, but he ignores the pain and staggers over to Stiles.  All of these spectators gaping at Stiles like he’s a piece of meat is enough to make Derek want to kill every one of them, but he knows that’s impractical, especially in the state he’s in. Stiles appears to be very weak. He is hanging bonelessly from the ropes.  He looks up at Derek’s limping, battered form, his eyes taking in all of Derek’s cuts and bruises and bites, and he tries to send him more energy.

Derek blocks it.

He leans up against Stiles and claws the ropes into shreds. Stiles sinks against his bare chest, falls into his arms, and Derek catches him.

“Why did you reject the energy I sent you?” Stiles breathes angrily into him, and Derek hears him clearly, blocking out everyone else in the arena.

“Because you’re going to kill yourself trying to help me! You can barely stand as it is!” He lifts Stiles up completely off the ground. Stiles wraps his legs around Derek and rests his head on his shoulder and wraps his arms around Derek’s body. Derek’s protective nature kicks in. The adrenaline surge he gets from needing to rescue his beta gives him the energy to carry Stiles across the arena.

From everywhere and nowhere, a voice booms out, “And the winner of today’s event is Alpha Hale! He and his beta will, of course, spend the evening in the Mating Suite, where the Petersburg’s elite guests will be invited to watch the festivities.”

General cheering, catcalling, and wolf whistling ensue.

Derek almost chokes.

“Actually, you’ll have to miss out on that part,” booms an infuriated voice, and Derek has never been so happy to see Scott’s face in his entire life. He, Isaac, Erica, and Boyd have appeared from out of nowhere and begin to half drag, half carry Stiles and Derek from the arena.

“No! No! That’s not the way of things! Social conventions dictate -”

The angry voice drones on as several of the host pack’s minions advance on them, determined to prevent them from leaving.

Scott, Isaac, Erica and Boyd have other ideas, however, and growl ferociously at them, and their combined voices nearly shake the arena. The would-be attackers back off, and Derek’s pack anticlimactically exits the arena.

*****

Derek is slouched up against Stiles in the back of the Camaro. Stiles cradles his head in his left arm, and surveys his alpha-inflicted injuries. He is feeling the effect of their bond more strongly now, ever since he first pushed the energy through their connection. He can sense Derek’s feelings, at least the ones that relate to him. He knows Derek felt absolute panic when he saw Stiles tied up and helpless in the arena. He also feels immense depths of tenderness and compassion directed toward him, and he hadn’t suspected that Derek even knew those emotions existed.

Stiles presses him even closer, and with his free hand touches the holes on Derek’s forehead where Fugly bit him. He feels energy surging through his fingers and the holes in Derek’s skin close up, leaving Stiles drained.

“Stiles! Stop! You need time to restore your energy,” Derek groans.

“I’m starting to get that, yeah. Thanks,” he answers dryly as he buries his face in Derek’s hair, smiling.  “You’re welcome, by the way!”

Derek snorts, and falls asleep in Stiles’ arms.

Stiles is exhausted in ways he’s never even imagined before, but he’s also never felt so much peace: they are finally safe, he has Derek in his arms, and he knows Derek wants him.

*****

A few days later, the mostly healed Derek is in his loft, standing by the door. Stiles is standing next to him with his arm around his waist.  Derek has just sent the pack out to patrol their territory. They are much safer now that word has spread that Alpha Hale killed the generally well known and hugely disliked Alpha Petersburg.  There really isn’t a need for everyone to go out lurking around, but the pack has discreetly suggested (repeatedly) that, now that they’re both healthy again, the two of them . . . ahem . . .explore their new bond (Erica), get it _ooonnnn_ (Boyd), fuck like monkeys (Jackson), uh . . .enjoy themselves (Isaac), Ohmigod I’m just gonna go have that mental image wiped from my memory (Scott).

As soon as they are out of hearing range, Derek turns and enthusiastically slams Stiles into the nearest wall, pressing his lips onto Stiles’ soft mouth. Stiles groans as he eagerly fills Derek’s mouth with his tongue, which, Derek notices, also seems to be afflicted with ADHD.

Stiles eyes are half shut and Derek’s hands want to be everywhere at once. Impatiently he rips the clothes from Stiles’ body, tossing the shredded remains effortlessly to the floor. Stiles raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything until Derek drops to his knees and takes Stiles in his mouth.

“Oh my GOD!” he screams in surprise and Derek smiles as he moves his tongue, tasting every single surface of Stiles as Stiles squirms to get deeper inside Derek’s mouth. Both of his hands are tangled in Derek’s hair, pulling, and Derek cups Stiles’ buttcheeks in his hands and squeezes.

He sucks hard enough he’s afraid he might damages his human mate, but his fears are alleviated when Stiles comes in his mouth. Derek swallows and looks up at Stiles who is looking back at him in a way no one has ever looked at him before.

Stiles gets down on the floor with Derek and wraps his arms around him, and Derek sits back and pulls Stiles into his lap and just holds him, desperate to be closer, to be in contact with his body as much as possible. He wishes he’d ripped his own clothes off before they’d started this, but there’s something innately sexy about Stiles being naked and vulnerable in his arms while he’s completely clothed.

The only problem is his dick is about to punch a hole in his jeans.

Stiles grins at him and reaches down to relieve Derek’s current problem.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted us to be like this? To do this together? Do you even have a clue how long I’ve been in love with you?” Stiles has released Derek’s dick from its confines and is teasingly caressing the slit.

Derek raises an eyebrow and looks at Stiles. “I thought you hated me. Especially after you called me a monster. HOLY SHIT!”

Stiles has begun _tugging_ with one hand, but reaches up to touch Derek’s face with the other.

“I didn’t mean that, you know.  I was angry and frustrated. You have a tendency to treat me like a little kid-”

“I don’t treat you- ooh, ooh, like a – woah! little kid. I know you’re an adult, Stiles, believe MMEEEE yow! Where in the GOD! hell did you learn to do that? I’ve never tried to treat you like a kid, Stiles. I just wanted to protect you.  HOLY MOTHER OF-”

Stiles has wiggled out of Derek’s arms and is sucking on him and Derek wonders how Stiles has been carrying a black hole around in his mouth all this time because DAAAAMMMN.

Derek puts his fingers in Stiles’ hair and relishes the fact that he can touch him like this. All the times he watched him, fantasized about him, wanted him, all the times he curled up in bed at night wishing he could hold him, and now Stiles is finally his.

Stiles brings him to orgasm and as it turns out, Derek can be pretty loud, too.

*The End*


End file.
